


first train home

by orphan_account



Category: EXO (Band), K-pop, VIXX
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, Crossover, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Post-Break Up, Shower Sex, um...(oh ah yeh), yes they are still idols
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-08
Updated: 2018-03-08
Packaged: 2019-03-27 11:10:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13879629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: As the apartment he'd shared with—as the apartment he'd shared gets cleaner, Hakyeon feels lighter.And so, six months later, he finds himself here.Hereis a hole-in-the-wall shaved ice place, sitting across from Kim Minseok, swirling chocolate syrup and matcha around as he takes in the head-to-toe black outerwear that screamsI'm trying to keep a low profile.Minseok's mask is down and he nurses the blueberries topping his shaved ice.





	first train home

**Author's Note:**

> re-uploaded by request.
> 
> a series of scenes centered around cleaning things up.

Wongeun thanks Hakyeon before he leaves.

It's absurd, how their house falls. No explosive fights, not a single prise-de-fer. Just time wearing away at them until their edges don't fit like they used to. Hakyeon doesn't ask why—he knows why. He's sung about love long enough now to be an expert at it, knows its fine print through and through.

Hakyeon is beautiful and vain and kind and selfish and—and this is what Wongeun tells him as he packs designer clothes into designer luggage that Hakyeon knows is cheaper than his own because this is what he's been made into—Wongeun says, "You need me too much for who we are." And Hakyeon has been made into that too. His inner peace rests, a thin film, on layers of insecurity built up over years in the public eye.

Beneath Wongeun's words are their four years together. Hakyeon's phone, always on vibrate; his hectic schedule, day to weary day; his refusal to spend time idly; the idleness that never included Wongeun until it did, until it got too comfortable.

"I hope you'll always be happy," Wongeun says, and, "Thank you for everything."

Hakyeon wants to _say_ something. Something kind or something cruel, some vitriolic Parthian shot as his life walks out the door of their shared loft. You're supposed to _silently_ thank the possessions you throw away, after all.

***

Taekwoon comes over. He fake-sicks his way out of a full weekend of interviews and Hongbin ferries him clandestinely to Hakyeon's. Hongbin leaves cup noodles on the kitchen island and hugs Hakyeon to his chest. He smells like mid-range cologne and drugstore deodorant. He's too small to wrap around Hakyeon the way Taekwoon does, their limbs tangling together on Hakyeon's sofa as Taekwoon holds him through the shock and all five stages of grief.

It's the nature of their lives that they have to play out their personal tragedies in a relentless fast-forward. Hakyeon has a weekend, a full 72 hours to mourn his empty apartment before Taekwoon crowds him into the shower and chides him into scrubbing off his tears and stress. When he gets out, feeling somehow five years older—funny how time moves, really—Taekwoon's packed Hakyeon's three luggage sets full of clothes and shoes.

It's Sanghyuk who carries the third suitcase downstairs, there at Taekwoon's behest to drive them to the apartment Taekwoon and Jaehwan share. Jaehwan isn't there, Taekwoon explains, his voice feathery against Hakyeon's temple. It's on-season for his musical, and he won't be home for months. He won't mind if Hakyeon sleeps in his bed.

Sanghyuk says he'll send Wonshik over with groceries if Taekwoon gives him a list. Wonshik stares at Hakyeon across Taekwoon's dinner table, concerned and heartbroken. Nudges a bottle of banana milk against Hakyeon's hand.

Later, when Hakyeon is lying enveloped in Jaehwan's mountain of blankets, pressing his face into the faint Jaehwan scent of the pillow and trying to hold himself together, Wonshik tosses himself onto the mattress and tucks Hakyeon against his chest without a word.

***

Dispatch drops photos of Wongeun, his suitcase in hand, departing their building. From Dispatch, they hit Naver, and suddenly everyone knows that known best friends Lee Wongeun and VIXX's N are no longer sharing an apartment. The articles state everything except the obvious.

Hakyeon has started trying to be tidier with his life. Not _tidy_ , but tidier, because he's a work in progress. He sits amid a sea of boxes packed by Taekwoon and arranged in a rough circle around Hakyeon. Half-read books, framed photos, trinkets from shared overseas trips. Hakyeon puts them all in the same category, of things better left behind. 

The apartment had takers the instant Hakyeon listed it. It will be sublet to a lovely young couple, both of them lawyers. Hakyeon's cleared a space for himself in Taekwoon's lived-in home, fitting somewhere inside the comfortable routine between Jaehwan and Taekwoon. On nights he feels like he may melt apart, burning with the reality of it, he fits between Taekwoon and the bedroom wall. On other nights, he fits in Jaehwan's vacated bedroom, sweeping manga volumes to the side in order to plunk down his laptop and check his inundation of emails.

As the apartment he'd shared with—as the apartment he'd shared gets cleaner, Hakyeon feels lighter. 

***

And so, six months later, he finds himself here.

 _Here_ is a hole-in-the-wall shaved ice place, sitting across from Kim Minseok, swirling chocolate syrup and matcha around as he takes in the head-to-toe black outerwear that screams _I'm trying to keep a low profile_. Minseok's mask is down and he nurses the blueberries topping his shaved ice.

"You looked, ah, you looked good," Minseok stammers, and Hakyeon thinks that if he were a lesser man, Minseok would be blushing right now. Hakyeon takes a sip of his smoothie and smiles benevolently. It doesn't pull at the edges like it has with every other _friend._

"Your stage too, very sexy," Hakyeon counters. "EXO are always sexy, though." Minseok laughs abruptly—a sudden _hahaha_ that consistently startles Hakyeon—and nods his agreement, scrubbing one hand bashfully across the back of his neck. Hakyeon hears it chafe at the close-cut hair there. "I'm definitely the second type of fan. Mouth open the whole time."

Minseok raises one eyebrow and tips his spoon at Hakyeon, pontificating. His pale pink crewneck gapes under his coat. "Ah, but if your mouth is already open all the time..."

Hakyeon lifts one fluttering hand to his collarbone, aghast. "Yah! How rude!" Minseok tips his head concessively but continues to lick shaved ice from his spoon until the metal shines, only then dipping it back into his dish.

Abs under that pink shirt. Steel under that cute veneer. Hakyeon wants it against himself, has maybe (probably) wanted that since the first time they went out, two weeks ago.

"I was complimenting you, and you decided to be _mean_ ," Hakyeon pouts, and Minseok's other eyebrow raises. Hakyeon kicks petulantly at Minseok's expensive sneakers under the table. They're worth more than Hakyeon's Chelsea boots.

"You tell everyone they're sexy, though," Minseok reasons, and Hakyeon really has no room to deny that. It's become his default compliment, but it's _true_ , they're working in an industry built from bricks of hormones and desire. Hakyeon keeps his genuine compliments under a much heavier lock and key lately.

His pulse races as he watches Minseok do that spoon thing again, and words fall from his lips, burgled by a completely-unaware Minseok from that same locked vault. “Well. You're lovely enough." 

Minseok's gums show when he grins, and his smile is wider on his right side than his left. He _is_ lovely enough. He's lovely, full stop, all awful jokes and concerned video calls, "I heard from Wonshik, Hakyeon, I'm so sorry." And Taekwoon had warned Hakyeon not to latch onto Minseok simply because he was beautiful and _there_ , so Hakyeon had listened, fucking his way through a revolving door of lovers without incident or attachment.

("Now?" Hakyeon whispers against Taekwoon's collarbone in the dark bedroom. Jaehwan’s. 

"Is your mind still a mess?" Taekwoon's voice floats back.

No, Hakyeon answers, because he'd thrown out all the substance of his life with Wongeun and, somehow, he'd thrown out all that confusion, too.)

***

Karma rewards Minseok's slight against Hakyeon's endearing loquacity with a blueberry stain on his pale-pink shirt. 

An invitation weighed heavy with subtext and separate chauffeurs later, Minseok's shirt is stain-free and hanging to dry in Taekwoon's bathroom as Hakyeon pounds a fist against the shower wall. His voice echoes from the bathroom tiles in the kind of sound he'd only dare to make if he was _sure_ no one would hear. 

Minseok groans in response and his arms tighten around Hakyeon's waist, his chest, pulling him back against a slick, firm body. His lips worry at Hakyeon's ear, telling him how beautiful he is, how good he feels. Minseok gets a foot between Hakyeon's ankles and urges them a bit wider on the shower mat, tips Hakyeon's hips back and _there_ , just there, Minseok's cock hits him right in the place that makes Hakyeon's groans turn into sharp cries and his cock jerk against his stomach.

"Oh, good, Minseok, _good..._ " Hakyeon sighs, rests his wet face against his wet fists, lets his pleasure-weary arms fold and gives himself over to it. 

"Ah, yeah, definitely good," Minseok laughs breathlessly over the pound of water on ceramic, not pausing the smooth roll of his hips against Hakyeon. "Touch yourself for me?" 

Who is Hakyeon to deny a great idea when it's laid out in front of him so prettily? He gets one hand around himself and Minseok keeps fucking him so smooth and so good, Minseok's arms hold him so close and Hakyeon is coming before he can properly begin to jerk off, the warmth pooled in his abdomen shooting out in a frisson all over his bodyas the shower's spray rinses him clean.

"Inside me, come on," Hakyeon urges, and Minseok gasps something affirmative and thrusts into him harder, yanking Hakyeon back onto his cock as Hakyeon whines, sensitive and fucked-out. He pushes himself up with effort and gets one arm around Minseok's neck, stands up to properly feel Minseok all down the line of his back, tosses his head back onto Minseok's shoulder and lets his mouth fall open to whimper at the ceiling.

Minseok's hips drive in firmly once, twice, three times, and he stays, presses himself to Hakyeon and holds him impossibly close as he moans, rough and quiet, into Hakyeon's neck. For a moment, there's only the sound of the water, and then Minseok's on his knees. His tongue traces a warm path up the back of Hakyeon's thigh, until Minseok is licking around Hakyeon's tender rim as Hakyeon breathes out reverent praise.

***

There's a single polaroid of the two of them, Hakyeon and Minseok, in matching sheet masks and headbands, on Hakyeon's nightstand. A few pairs of underwear that aren't Hakyeon's in his dresser at his new apartment, another loft, but entirely his own. A pack of spare toothbrushes, one removed, quiescent at the bottom of a drawer in the bathroom. Indications that Minseok has been here, but never stayed long.

Minseok's clothes take up a quarter of the closet, his coffee sits on a shelf above Hakyeon's frequently-used teas. His presence is gentle and unobtrusive, as light as it has ever been on Hakyeon. When Hakyeon is home—a rarity, recently—he doesn't feel as if he's suffocating under the weight of the love he and Minseok carry between them.

Once a house is truly tidy, it never falls back into disarray.

  


**Author's Note:**

> leave me a comment~


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